THE MILLERS

On the river Sokhta in Kadnikovskiy County, Vologda province, twelve watermills stood over one and a half miles away. It was neither more nor less.
 The water mills appeared like mushrooms after rain in the villages. The village of Kupaiha was widely known for its windmills, where almost every household had a winged wonder or shared with a neighbour. From a distance, Kupaiha looked sort of a fairy tale village because the mills were higher than the houses, and the sun surrounded the village from three sides.
   Who had not been called a miller during the collective time! But, of course, not all of them were so meticulous as Dennis, a miller from Pomazihi. Even in his own house, he built the mill on the upper barn. He called her "built on sand" (water mills were" water mills "and "shove mills").
 Dennis's sand mill was supposed to spin non-stop until the wear and tear according to the plan. Still, Denis's perpetual mobile did not work, and he returned to his old "water-flowing."
   Matyusha- a miller from the same village, worked on his mill (with a 30-year collective farm) until his death. He was thoughtful, stocky and liked to make fun. Matusha was replaced by Ivan Timofeyevich Merkushev, nicknamed Timokhin. He was a powerful, massive and profound man with a big dark-red beard.
  All millers have something in common, a strange contemplation, a spiritual reserve, which did not possess all the others, i.e. non-millers. Water makes noise day and night at the dam. River twinkles in the sun and only a few fish splashes disrupt a vast enchanted expanse. The grinds are not that rustle, as it were, but peacefully snuffle; a helper snores in the cabin. He must pour grain into the bucket, but you, the miller, have to walk and listen to the water, stare at the sky, dividing the weather, watch for bran and touch a warm flour stream. Knock the wedge and slightly lower your upper millstone if the flour went too coarse. Get lost in their thoughts again, looking at the sky, water and green woods.
   Wind and water, especially when they are at the service of men, make the miller close to nature, become intermediaries between the infinite world and a man. Even when the elements threaten to destroy the dam or break the wings of windmills, the miller is calm.
 He even then knows what to do because he was on familiar terms with nature.